Harry Potter and Year 5
by Supervixen
Summary: Harry, Hermoine and Ron are confronted by an evil force during year 5 in Hogwarts
1. Default Chapter Title

Hermoine Granger gave a frustrated sigh as she pulled her bushy brown hair into a ponytail.   
_There,_ she thought_, simple and neat_  
She gazed about her room. It was a nice, clean placed, not big or small, with everything in the right order. But still, though this was the room she had grown up in, the room that she could walk around blind in, it didn't feel right. Her very skin itched to be back in her room at Hogwarts.  
She smiled excitedly at the very name...Hogwarts.  
It reminded her of so much. She couldn't wait to see Hagrid and Professor Dumbledor and McGonagall, Ron and Harry, especially Harry.  
Her large, ginger cat, Crookshanks leapt up on her bed yowling loudly. She smiled affectionatly at it and gave it a gentle pat on the head. She smiled even wider as the cat began to purr loudly, sounding like an engine.  
"Yes, Crookys, I can't wait to be back either! We're going to be seeing Ron and Harry again!" she cooed.  
At Ron's name, the cat jerked away and grumbled as well as a cat can grumble.  
"Now, now, Crooky's, Ron promised to be nice this year..." but the cat still glared so she stopped.  
"Hermoine! Come on, dear, let's get going, we're going to be late!" he mother called from downstairs.  
Despite entering her 5th year and being nearly 15, she couldn't help but jump up and clap her hands in childish excitement. She carefully gave her hair one last smoothing, grabbed the last of her bags, shooed a miffed Crookshanks into his wicker carrier, did one last supply check and dashed down the stairs.  
"Whoa, Hermoine, slow down there," her dad, a muggle dentist laughed, "You're almost 15 now."  
She smiled at him, "I just can't wait to get to Hogwarts!"   
Her mom gave a half proud, half exasperated sigh, "Well then, come on," she turned to Dr. Granger, well, Hermoine's father, considering that they were both dentists, "Dear, would you take this suitcase?"  
"Sure thin...UMP!" he grunted as Dr./Mrs. Granger shoved the bag into his arms.  
"Are you sure you can take that?" said Hermoine's mother in concern.  
"Sure...dear..." he gasped out and then staggered out the door and shoved the bag into the trunk. Seconds later, the Granger family piled in and they drove off to the train station and later, Hogwarts.  
Hermoine first spotted Ron being teased by his brothers Fred and George. As she drew closer she could hear them talking.  
"So ickle Ronnykin's is going into his 5th year?" Fred joked, doing a parody of his mother's voice which trailed off as Mrs. Weasley walked up to them.  
"What're you 3 doing? Honestly! You know the train is leaving soon so-" she noticed Hermoine, "Oh, hello, dear. How are you?" she said sweetly.  
"Fine, thank you Mrs. Weasley. And yourself?" Hermoine replied politely.  
"Oh well, you know how _they_ are she said with an exasperated sigh at the boys. The twins hung their heads in mock shame and Ron's ears turned a shade redder.  
Hermoine smiled and Mrs. Weasley walked away. Hermoine opened her mouth to say something to Ron but then saw a now rather tall, but still skinny boy with wild hair that didn't seem to want to stay down. And on his forehead, she saw a purple scar.  
"HARRY!" she and Ron cried at the same time, rushing toward him. Ron ran up and took him in a head lock, giving him a noogie and Hermoine pulled Ron off, all three of them laughing.  
"Hey guys." Harry said meekly, "How've you been?"  
"Oh, I've missed both of you guys so much!" Hermoine beamed.  
"Wait 'til I tell you what I did to Dudley over summer break..." Harry began, but was interupted by the train whistle.  
"We'd better get aboard." Hermoine said quickly. She stooped down and grabbed Crookshank's carrier then rushed after Ron and Harry, who were both toting owl cages. She was about to comment on the inefficiency of Ron's new, young owl but decided to save it for the train.  
They piled into their usual compartment and waited excitedly for the train to start.  
To Be Continued Since My Female Parental Unit Is Bugging Me To Get Off The Computer....   



	2. Default Chapter Title

**Title:** Harry Potter and Year 5 (Part 2)  
**Rating:** PG  
**A/N:** I realize everyone is entitled to their own opinion and I totally respect that,  
but did anyone else notice "Mrs. Miller's" comment in my Part 1? The supposed  
high school professor spelled "Offense" and "Opinion" wrong. I realize that my  
spelling's not that good either, but if you're masquerading as a teacher, shouldn't  
you at least try to be believable? Another thing: Why would a high school  
professor be reading a fanfic? Just wanted to get that out. As for the rest of you,  
thank you so much for the response. Considering that was my first, I'm really  
happy you liked it. I hope you enjoy Part 2 and so on just as much. Thank you! :)  
By the way, this is an awfully long author's note, or should I call it a letter?  
Maybe I should ask Mrs. Miller. Okay, that was lame, I'll shut up so you can  
read:  
  
Ron laughed hysterically as Harry told them about how he had scared his piggish cousin Dudley into believing he had put an appetite-loss curse on him. Hermoine had to bite her tongue to keep from scolding him. She's promised herself that she'd be more lenient on them this year.  
Meanwhile, however, as she had begun to think about this, Draco Malfoy and his thugs Crabbe and Goyle had entered their compartment.   
Immediately, the three Gryffidors stood defensively. Fighting these Slytherins was definitely something Hermoine would _not_ object to.  
"What do you want?" Ron snarled at Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle glared menacingly.  
"Oh, nothing much..._Weasel_." Malfoy drawled with a malicious smirk plastered across his smug face.  
Oh, how much Hermoine wished that someone would wipe it off.  
But Malfoy continued, "Just wanted to make sure that we start the year off right with our very best friends, _Weasel_, _Potty_ and _Gangly._"  
Malfoy had touched a definite nerve with Hermoine. She knew it wasn't actually something personal, but before she had gotten her braces on and off, her two front teeth had been slightly, well, _gangly_. She heard someone let out a growl of anger and realized it was her.  
Draco turned his attention to her with a cold glared.   
"Why do you hang around with these boy dirtbags? Don't you have any scummy Gryffindor girl friends?" he demanded.  
That was it. All three of them leapt at him at once. There was a mad scrambling and scuffling as Crabbe and Goyle jumped in to defend Malfoy.  
Quite suddenly, the compartment door opened and in stepped a tall, thin woman dressed in neat black robes and a hat. She had a pretty face, dark hair and gray, stormy eyes.  
Quickly, the 6 of them parted and dusted themselves off. They eyed her nervously. But she simply let a small smile play over her thin lips.  
"Careful now, wouldn't want to get in trouble for fighting on the very first day, now would we?" she said. Her voice was soft and smooth, each syllable neatly annunciated.  
With a last cold glare, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle exited the compartment.  
"Now," the woman turned to the other three who were shuffling their feet sheepishly, eyes glued to the floor. Suddenly, her eyebrows raised, "Harry Potter," she said. It wasn't a question.  
"Harry Potter..." she repeated slowly, "You have your mother's eyes..." she shook her head and stopped. "Well, I don't believe your mother would've been very proud of you fighting normally, but against a Slytherin, especially from Malfoy blood..." her voice trailed off and she pressed her fingertips together, looking at the three.  
Harry looked up at her, startled, "You-You knew my mother."  
"Of course," the woman smiled her small, secretive smile again, "I was her best friend in Hogwarts."  
A realization lit Harry's face, "Right! You were her Maid of Honor...I've a picture of you!" he said excitedly.  
She nodded, still smiling.  
"Are y...you the new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher?" Hermoine ventured cautiously.  
"No, I'm afraid not. I am Professor Calysta Lambert, your new Potions instructor" she said.  
The cabin was silent for a moment.  
"You mean Snape quit?!" cried Ron excitedly.  
"In a way..." she paused, biting her lip, "He's now...your Defense Against The Dark Arts instructor."  
Three smiles fell off three faces and hit the floor, smashing to a million pieces.  
"No..." whispered Ron.  
Harry's face was white and Hermoine felt her spirits sinking too. If there was one teacher, well, besides Professor Trelawney, who seemed to dislike her, it was Snape.  
"Evidently this news is now going over very well," commented Professor Lambert mildly.   
The conductor's voice cracked the silence.  
"10 minutes' 'for we reach Hogwarts!"   
Professor Lambert smiled, "Well, I will leave you to prepare...see you at school."  
The three stood in silence.  
"Well, I guess Snape's finally got what he wants." Harry commented with a gulp.  
"Yea, and I guess we've finally had our nightmares come true." Ron said darkly.  
They wordlessly changed into their robes and trooped off the train, glumly waving a half hearted hello to Hagrid who eyed them, puzzled but was too busy hustling first years into boats to ask. As they drew near Hogwarts, Hermoine felt her hopes rise a little. Any new year at Hogwarts couldn't be too bad, even with Snape at him new position. And Professor Lambert seemed nice...   


* * *  


Hermoine snuggled deep into the warm, soft covers of her bed located in  
the girl's room of the Gryffindor tower. As always, it had been a wonderful start  
of the year feast, full of delicious dishes, reuniting friends and laughter. Her  
stomach was full and her body sluggish, but her mind was still quite awake and  
excited to be back where it felt most at home.  
She sighed, turned over in the bed, punched her pillow restlessly and  
rolled her eyes in the dark. Next to her, as much as she denied all allegations of  
it, Lavender Brown was snoring so loudly Hermoine felt a fierce desire to  
smother her with her own pillow.  
She traced the intricate weavings of the embroidered silken blanket with a  
finger...around a phoenix, carefully curving about the gentle swirls of a flower...  
Shaking her head, she slid out of bed, shoving her cold feet into a pair of  
fuzzy slippers that her mother had made and sent to her last Christmas.  
She crept into the Gryffindor common room, pacing restlessly in front of  
an empty, lonely looking unlit marble fireplace. There was a large, rectangular  
mirror hanging over it. It had a rich, solid gold frame. Hermoine assumed it was  
new, she'd never seen it before.   
She was wondering if it talked like the kind in the Leaky Cauldron when it  
happened. As she took a glimpse at the shiny, clean glass and saw  
something...a bluish, iridescent white figure...a woman emerging from the back  
of chair. Hermoine gave a start and spun around, prepared to defend herself or  
yell out if need be.   
But the room was vacant besides herself, eerily silent.  
She held her breath, half wondering if she should check behind the  
squashy, comfortable arm chair the figure seemed to have been emerging from,  
however, at that moment the head teacher of Gryffindor, stern looking Professor  
McGonagall, hair tightly in a bun and all chose to enter from her room, holding a  
candle, her squared spectacles slightly askew.  
"Ms. Granger!" she said in surprise, "You seem to be the last person that  
I'd assume to be wandering about in the middle of the night. I supposed Mr.  
Potter and Mr. Weasley are involved in this escapade as well?" she scanned the  
room with her piercing gaze, as thought expecting them to be hunched over in a  
corner.  
Hermoine, however, as good at she was with teachers, was for once at a  
loss of words. Her heart pounded against her chest and cold sweat ran down her  
back as the hairs on her neck prickled.   
"Professor...there...there are no...no female ghouls around here...are  
there?" she managed.   
Professor McGonagall seemed rather irked by this.  
"Now Hermoine, I don't see what that has to with anything, but to answer  
you, no, none that are regulars at this school. Why do you asked?" she fixed a  
suspicious look on Hermoine who was still staring at the chair, especially pale.  
"I-I...Nothing." Hermoine shook her head, her logical mind racing. It must  
have been a trick of the light, she told herself mentally.   
All the same, she barely seemed to realize that she had narrowly escaped  
punishment-something normally she never would've lived down in her own mind.  
It wasn't until she was crawling back into her bed that she realized that  
there had been no light to play tricks on her eyes.  
She shivered in bed, though she was quickly warmed by the thick  
blankets. Then what could it have been? All she was sure of was that it wasn't  
her imagination and that in the brief second that she had seen the figure's  
tormented but somehow familiar face, that it had been warning her of something.   
She was even more determined not to fall asleep, but as happens with  
even the most alert minds, drowsiness overcame and she drifted off. And at the  
last moment that she was awake, she realized who she had seen. It had been  
Lily Potty, none other than Harry's deceased mother.  



	3. Default Chapter Title

A/N: Read "Harry Potter and Year 5 (Part 2)" before this, or it won't make any sense! Also, in Part 2, at the end I stupidly wrote Lily "Potty" instead of Lily "Potter". Well, that is technically called a MASU....Major Ass Screw Up. It comes from having an especially crappy, annoying auto spell check and a really really tired author...you know how that is. Well forgive me and thanks! :)  
  
"I'm telling you what I saw!" Hermoine insisted indignity to Ron at the Gryffindor table the next morning. She was, to say the least, even more bad tempered after the lack of sleep she had gotten the night before.   
Ron rolled his eyes toward the enchanted ceiling which this morning, was a gloomy, overcast gray.   
"Hermoine, it was late, you were half asleep, you'd just eaten-"   
Her eyes flared at this.   
"Ron! I was not imagining things and I sure was not dreaming! Professor McGonagall could back me up on that...she caught me in the common room!"  
"Oooh..." Ron said sarcastically, "Hermoine got in trouble..." he shook his head, chuckling and continued, "The fact that she caught you means nothing...you probably were just tired." with this, he dug back into the mound of scrambled eggs that pat in front of him.  
She sighed and slumped down into her chair, staring despairingly at the huge plate that sat in front of her, laden with food. She pushed it away slowly. Her appetite was gone. Almost as though sensing this, her breakfast disappeared and left the dish sparkling golden clean.   
She gazed at her reflection in the dish and made a face. Her hair was a mess and her eyes had dark circles under them, reminding her of their previous were-wolf teacher, Professor Lupin. She wished she'd have enough time to fix herself before the school day started, but her first lesson was Defense Against The Dark Arts and she knew that Snape did not hold for tardiness, especially for something as trivial as her appearance.  
When she looked up again, Ron was hurriedly wolfing down his breakfast before classes, but Harry was just sitting there, stirring his spoon around his full oatmeal bowl. She paused, feeling sorry that she had brought up the subject of his mother so brashly. Her mouth opened as though she were about to apologize, but Harry spoke first.  
"Wha-Did she say anything to you?" his voice was hesitant, but he leaned forward in an almost hungry way.  
Hermoine was surprised, he didn't sound hurt...still, she figured she ought to be gentle about the topic. But what surprised her even more was that he seemed to believe her, despite the loud doubts Ron was expressing.  
"Well..." she paused, considering, "She didn't say anything...really, she didn't even open her mouth," Hermoine reflected with a start, realizing it for the first time herself, "But...I got the feeling she was-"  
Suddenly, tiny Professor Flitwick stood and informed them it was time for classes and good luck. There was a flurry of chairs scraping marble floor and a fumble for assorted books and wands as well as a few anxious squeaks coming from first years.  
Hermoine was separated from Harry in the huge wave of people, but she could see him raising himself to his whole meager height, trying to catch her words. She sighed in frustration and called as loud as possible,   
"I'll tell you in Defense Against the Dark Arts!"   
Hopefully, she thought, if Snape even lets us talk  


***   


As soon a Hermoine entered the Defense Against The Dark Arts room, she knew they were in for a less than good year.   
Snape had rearranged the room and set up a seating chart. Hermoine sank reluctantly into her seat next to stuck up, pug-nosed Pansy Parkinson and another Slytherin, a boy she didn't know with dark, greasy hair that mirrored Snape's and a prissy little mouth.  
She craned her neck over the sea of Griffidor and Slytherin heads, looking for Harry. She finally spotted his across the room, evidently looking for her as he was pretending to listen intently to Neville Longbottom who was undoubtedly worrying over something while craning his neck over the sea of heads.   
She was about to call out, but decided against it as Snape took center stage at the front of the room, holding his wand in an almost threatening position. The rest of the class, too had also turned their attention toward him. His black, seemingly endless eyes scanned the room with a mixture of hate and grim, but proud satisfaction.  
"I see that half the room is going to do very well this year, however it seemed the other half....well..." his voice trailed off and he fixed his glare on Neville who gave a little sound like "eep" and shrank down in his desk.  
"Now." Snape said, banging his wand firmly on the demonstration table, making the majority of the room, including Hermoine jump, "This year, we will be picking off where your er...former, rather inadequate Professor left off..." he said.  
"However, we will be moving rather quickly..." here he began pacing about the desks, lunging forward at Neville who gave another squeak, "After all, I would've expected you cover things in depth such as Hags and Banshees last year."  
His long, white fingers paused, drumming his table as he drew up front once more, his black robes swished behind him with finality.  
Hermoine quickly raised her hand. Actually, they had studied Hags and touched a bit on Banshees the former year...if only Snape would call on her!  
Come on, you greasy, greasy man! Call on me!!! she thought to herself in utter frustration, waving her arm about in the air so hard that she nearly struck her Slytherin desk neighbor which he returned with a cold, hard glare.  
Snape, too fixed her with a trademark Slytherin stare but then suddenly turned to Harry.  
"Potter!" he barked, "What are the three major traits of a Banshee cry?"  
Harry gave a weary inner sigh but drew himself up proudly. Hermoine's arm flew like a crazy bird set free in the room.  
"Uh, sir, we didn't cover Banshees last year..." he paused, licking his lips, "You said it yourself." he added earnestly. Snape rewarded him with a look of loathing and frustration. There was a gentle ripple of agreement throughout the room, coming solely from Gryffidors.  
"Yet, Potter...and the information lies in your new textbooks...but you wouldn't want to open that now, would you?...1 point off of Griffidor for your attitude." he snapped. The Slytherins passed each other smirks while Hermoine and the other Gryffidors sizzled in their seats.  
No, it certainly would not be a good year in this class, Hermoine thought with a sigh as Snape hollered at them to open their books and then hollered some more at Ron for making a face. Not a good year at all.  


***  


Hermoine darted quickly to Care of Magical Creatures, wanting as much time to talk with Harry as possible. She scurried past Professor McGonagall's room, saw her grading papers, past the Ancient Magical History dungeon which was empty, past Filch's room, she saw him pacing about in front of a chair that was occupied by Harry...  
Harry?  
She quickly backed up, peering slowly around the doorway. Yes, it was definitely Harry. She stood still and silent, wanting to catch every word that Filch said.  
"...he, you kids think you can get away wit everything' now doncha? Think that ol' Filch won't see your lil' tricks? But I do! And I caught ya this time. Detention for you, boy!" he lectured, barely able to keep the glee out of his hoarse voice as his jowls shook.  
Looking past him wearily, Harry saw Hermoine. He flashed her a desperate "help me" sort of look. Hermoine wrung her hands wistfully.  
On one hand, she could have the sheer mischievous joy of doing something perfectly awful to Filch, getting Harry out of trouble and getting to Care for Magical Creatures...but on the contrary, she could sit, do nothing and not face possible expulsion from school. She'd be a tad late for Magical Creatures, but what would Hagrid care?   
Meanwhile, however, as she was weighing the possibilities, Filch was writing up a detention slip which he handed to Harry, unable to keep a mirthful smirk off his wrinkled face, as he walked out the door.  
Harry gave a despairing moan, reading the slip.  
"A weeks worth of cleaning the trophy room after lessons?" he turned to Hermoine, "Why didn't you do anything?"  
I was going to but I-" she began, but he cut her off.  
"Wait, what were saying about my mum during breakfast?"  
Hermoine stopped short and turned to him eagerly, quickly explaining her restlessness, the pacing, the mirror and finally about the shadowy ghost like figure.  
"...and then, I know this sounds nuts, but I swore, it looked like she was warning me of something." she said, her voice lowered down to a whisper for no reason.  
Harry was looking at her, eyes wide, mouth half open. Hermoine stared at him anxiously.  
"I hope I didn't bring it on too fast or anything..." he voice trailed off, uncertain. Suddenly, he began to speak.  
"Hermoine...I-I had a dream last night..." his voice was soft and slow, "My mum was...was in it. She was trying to hold onto me, but something kept pulling me away, she kept saying "beware, beware" and then the something swept me away and I saw her face freeze...and she, she was looking at me, a look on her face...like she was scared and she was..."  
"Warning you." Hermoine finished. Their eyes met, both scared.   
Suddenly, interrupting the moment, a meow pierced the silence.  
They both jumped, then looked down. There was Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris.  
"We'd better get outta here. Filch'll come soon." Harry said hurriedly, taking Hermoine's arm and the two rushed down the hall, around the corner and right into-  
"Professor Snape!" Hermoine squeaked. The two quickly stepped back, gulping.  
"Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger...How very...charming." his piercing eyes fell on Harry's hand which was still gripping Hermoine's wrist. Harry followed his gaze, then suddenly dropped Hermoine's arm, embarrassed.  
"It's not what it looked like! I...er, we er...uh, were late going to Care of Magical Creatures because I was written up by Mr. Filch..." Harry stuttered. Snape had a way of making you feel as though you always owed him an explanation.  
"Both of you?" Snape asked, raising his eyebrows that reminded Hermoine of two tiny, oily black snakes.  
"Well, er no, just Harry." Hermoine ventured.  
"Well both you of you have it now." Snape snapped, drawing two detention forms from thin air with his wand and handing them to both of the disheartened Gryffidors.   
"I will see you two at the end of the day in my office I trust-" he began, but was cut off as Professor McGonagall hurried up, her gaunt face greatly unsettled.  
"Potter, Granger, I need to see you immediately." she said, briskly stepping in front of Snape, much the way a mouse would step between a striking snake and it's prey.   
"Excuse me, Professor, but I was punishing these two for skipping class." Snape grated angrily.  
Professor McGonagall turned on him and spoke in a low, even voice.  
"Severus, I assure you that even you will find that I have a greater need for them. I believe you should come along as well."   
He frowned but finally nodded.   
"Well then, come." she turned heel and the three followed her. Hermoine noted that Snape didn't release his glare from them until they reached the library.  
A collective gasp rose from the students and Snape.  
It appeared as though a hurricane had ripped through the usually neat room. Ripped books, dismembered book covers and pages lay strewn across the room, the shelves nearly empty all over...all the books were completely gone from the restricted section, they noted. The desks and chairs were tore and shredded, toppled over, some even across the room from where they had been.  
The rest of the teachers were milling about, faces somber as they bent over, half heatedly picking up the remains of books. Professor Lambert hurried over as they entered and enveloped Harry in a gentle hug for some reason, tears dripping down her face. Then she released him and turned away to wipe the tears.   
The librarian was blubbering in the corner, covered by a blanket and babbling how she hear a strange voice calling her and how she foolishly left the library and how the door slammed behind her, locking and how she could hear thuds as books slammed against the door and a voice...a high voice laughing louder and louder as she pounded on the door...  
Hermoine and Harry looked up at Professor McGonagall.  
"You will be able to put this right, won't you?" Hermoine asked, nearly on the verge of tears herself at the sight of all those damaged books.  
"Yes. Of course, it will take much work, after all with those old books we had..." she sighed, "But yes, we will."  
"You-You don't think we did this, do you Professor?" Harry ventured. She turned to him quickly.  
"Heavens no child! We just thought that..." she took a deep breath and turned to Dumbledore who had come up behind them, silent and Solomon, "Shall we show them?  
He nodded, still not speaking.  
Professor McGonagall and Flitwick moved to the back of the library, toward part of the wall that was covered up by a velvet cloth which they had failed to notice upon entering and pulled it down. Harry and Hermoine both barely managed to keep from crying out. On the wall, in what seemed like transparent silver blood, someone had drawn the perfect outline of a ghost and not just any ghost, but Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, the Gryffidor spirit. It was so precise, it seemed almost as though he had been frozen there.  
In the center in bold letters was written a message:  


**Lily...bEwaRe...Meddle mOre anD  
yOu, not exclusiVely your son, aRe nexT!**  
***  


  
"They said that Nearly Headless Nick's spirit was stolen, like an alive person being possessed...but his soul is still alive, still out there...and it can, possess a mortal." whispered Hermoine to Ron later that day. The students had all been herded into their common rooms as soon as possible without much of an explanation and the professors had whipped out the purple sleeping bags Hermoine remembered from her second year and had instructed them all to lay down and be good for the perfects and Head Boy and Girl.  
"Wow..." whispered Ron, his eyes shining like the stars than shone their bright light through the common room windows, "And you guys think it was...well, you-know-who?" he added.  
Hermoine started to roll her eyes in a know-it-all way, but stopped herself, "Well of course!" she couldn't keep the condescending tone out of her voice, "Who else would it be than Voldermort himself?!"  
Ron stared at her, alarmed, his ears red.  
"Don't say that!" he hissed, "Just call him You-Know-Who!"  
"Oh shut up." she said, "Harry's right, the man...if you can call him that has a name, use it!"  
Harry meanwhile, who had remained very quiet during this whole argument spoke,  
"Hermoine? What'd she look like? My mum, I mean?" he croaked, as though his voice were out of practice.  
"Well, she was like your pictures, pretty, kind of small...shortish hair..." Hermoine stopped, "Why?"  
"I just wanted to know." he paused, "You know, I've never seen her out of pictures or anything...well, except for that mirror but..." he sighed, "I just wonder why she didn't show herself to..." he seemed at a lose of words, or sorry he'd spoken.  
"To you?" Hermoine asked gently. He nodded and there was an uncomfortable silence.  
"Well, uh, I'd had better, uh check on Ginny. You know uh, how she gets..." Ron stood little too quickly and headed toward Ginny who was talking with her fellow third years excitedly.  
The other two stared at each other for a moment, then looked away, uncertain as to what to say.  
Late that night, after the lights had gone out and all around her were dreaming Gryffidors which included Ron, Hermoine had still not fallen asleep and as she guess from his irregular breathing and constant heavy sighs, neither had Harry.  
"Harry?" Hermoine ventured, "Are you all right? You're not scared or anything, are you?" she added anxiously.  
Harry turned to her, smiling a little sadly, "No, it's not that....it's just, why hasn't my mum shown herself before? Does she not care?"  
"Don't tell yourself that, Harry! Never! You must've cared a whole damn lot about you to give up her life and to warn you now! She cares!" Hermoine reprimanded him so sharply and so sternly that she rather resembled Professor McGonagall, making him smile.  
"Thanks. I-I guess I needed that." he barely whispered.  
"Hey..." she said, her voice softened and mouth turned up with barest trace of smile, "What're friends for?"  
He smiled at her and suddenly they were leaning closer, their faces and lips only inches apart and their eyes closed and then-  
"HARRY! HERMOINE! Do you have any idea what this looks like?!" suddenly out of the blue (actually since it was quite dark, the black), loomed Percy Weasley, lantern in hand, shining brilliant yellow light over his freckled pale face, accented with horn rimmed glasses.  
"Uh...er...we...no, it's not like that at all, Perce..." Harry stuttered, as the two did a hasty retreat away from on another, "We were just uh...talking...you know?" he added meekly.  
Percy gave a great huff, swelling up much like his mother, "Regardless of what you were doing, it's quite late and what you should be doing is sleeping!"  
"You're quite right, Percy." Hermoine agreed readily, wanting to get out of the uncomfortable situation as quick as possible.  
"Good! Then I hope you understand why I want you to move across the room, Ms. Granger."  
She sighed, picked up the sleeping bag and carted it over next to...(yippee) a snoring Lavender Brown, plunked it down and curled up into it.  
Harry got back into his own bag under Percy's watchful eye and smirked as her stalked pompously away, rather like Mrs. Norris.  
He was just settling down and was beginning to get used to Ron rattled on and on about mutant eggs in his sleep when a shadow was cast over him. He jumped up, ready to battle but instead Hermoine leaned down, gave him a quick peck on the lips-which he readily returned after recovering from his surprise- and scampered silently back across the room and into her sleeping bag.  
He lay back down into the bag, feeling as though it were a down cloud. And though the day's events had been quite exciting and rather frightening, try as he might, he couldn't seem wipe off a goofy grin that kept spreading across his face.  


[Sign On A Friend][1]  


  


   [1]: aol://1722:friend



	4. Default Chapter Title

A/N: By the way, after reading your comments, I realized how stupid I had been in making Percy still a Head Boy, so in this story, he's a student-teacher (secretly he hopes to match the likes of Albus Dumbledore, then build himself up to become the Minister of Magic, snicker, snicker). Thank you all for reading my fan fic, I'm honored. Seriously, I am. In any case, (Polaris, you should get this!) I am (obviously) continuing my fic so bon appetite! And no, I don't expect you to lick the screen . . . hello? He he . . . anyone there? That was supposed to be funny? It wasn't? Well . . . fine! Just read and I'll shut up. 

Hermoine hurried down stairs, through hidden passages, ducked out of hanging pictures, down more stairs and finally dashed into the Great Hall and slid into a seat next to Ron at the Gryffidor table. She smoothed her hair, hoping it was at least presentable. After falling asleep the night before in the warm purple sleeping bag, she'd been quite surprised to wake up in her own bed, in her own room, Lavender snoring loudly next to her, as always. It seemed that after thoroughly checking the castle, they felt no reason to keep the kids all clumped up together and had moved them back to their rooms by magic. "Hello." Hermoine greeted Ron, breathless from her early morning routine. "Mbn." Ron replied, his mouth full. He then gestured enthusiastically toward the sausages, "Mhab zomb, vriee jradt." "Uh, no thanks, I'm trying my hand at being a vegetarian." she said and pulled her plate forward, helping herself to some huge, warm fluffy waffles smothered with creamy butter and drowned with sweet, sticky syrup, as well as a towering glass of orange juice she could've swam in. She cut a piece off the waffle but paused before putting it in her mouth. "Where's Harry?" she asked, a bit anxious. There was always a chance they hadn't searched the castle right . . . Ron gulped down a huge mouthful of food before answering, "He was waiting for Neville. His toad got lost in the commotion and Snape wouldn't let him go look for it last night." Hermoine nodded, silently hoping for Trevor's safe return and slowly chewed the waffle. "Why?" he asked. "Oh...well, just curious, you know, you guys usually walk together." she stuttered out, hoping her embarrassment didn't show. Ron was too busy spooning something that looked suspiciously like grits onto his plate to take notice. Suddenly, Harry and Neville entered the hall, Neville holding up his toad, Trevor triumphantly. "Found him!" he cried, setting him down on the table and eagerly spooning himself some food. Harry followed suit, blushing slightly as he shot a nervous glance at Hermoine. Ron, not noticing anything odd, cleared his throat, "So Harry, first Quidditch game?" he said, clapping his hands together and rubbing them enthusiastically. "Huh? I mean, yea! I bet we can beat those Hufflepuffs, they're not lookin' so hot with that new captain," Harry said excitedly, trying to get his mind off the other matters at hand. Hermoine just eyed them silently for the rest of breakfast as they chattered excitedly about the game and pretended to listen to Neville fret about his Defense Against The Dark Arts average. Hermoine glanced repetitively at Harry during lunch, but he didn't look her way. Not even once. *** By Potions, Hermoine couldn't stand the uncomfortable silence between her and Harry. Even Ron seemed to have noticed the tension. Hermoine could hardly wait to get out of the dungeon and Potions was normally one of her favorite classes, now that they had Professor Lambert. All the Gryffidors, in fact seemed to enjoy Potions with Professor Lambert. She was calm, compassionate, patient, kind and fair-the exact opposites of Snape. Even Neville was doing better and seemed much less nervous. He still melted cauldrons, mixed up frog legs and spider bodies, but he did it all much less nervously. The Slytherins, however gave her as much trouble as possible which she deflected with grace and dignity. "Very good, Neville," Professor Lambert commented as she drifted quietly by the tables, inspecting people's cauldrons, robes swishing lightly. Neville beamed, but in his delight accidentally tipped over his cauldron, nearly sending the who concoction bubbling all over the floor. Instantly, Harry and Hermoine both dashed forward to catch it in unison and smashed right into one another. Hermoine looked up, the potion had been caught, frozen neatly in the air by one quick wave of Professor Lambert's wand. The class let out a collective sigh of relief and Harry and Hermoine stumbled back on their heels, rubbing their noses. Neville's face rather resembled a cherry tomato. "I-Oh! Oh no, Harry, Hermoine, I'm s-sorry..." he blathered, wringing his hands. "S'okay," grunted Harry, rubbing his face where his glasses had crushed into it. "Are you two all right?" Professor Lambert inquired, setting Neville's cauldron right and helping Hermoine up. "Yes." they replied quickly. "Don't worry, Harry pretends to be as tough as Neville is thick, and Weasel is poor," drawled the cold, voice of Draco Malfoy, winning snorting laughter from the Slytherins. Ron leaped at him, but Harry quickly grabbed him arm. "I don't believe that's necessary, Draco." Professor Lambert's gentle voice stated firmly, "Now. Return to your work." she instructed, retreating to her desk to grade papers. "I tell you, I can't work with all this filthy blood around here." Draco sighed, none too quietly. The three whirled around, fists clenched, "You shut your dirty mouth, Malfoy or I might just have to smack it." Hermoine hissed. "Ooh...the girl is going to hit me, I'm so scared," he said, "Why don't you hang out with any girls? Or are these the only two losers who can stand you, mud-blood?" he demanded maliciously, Crabbe and Goyle turning and growling menacingly. "We're warning you, Malfoy..." growled Ron. "Shut up, Weasel, go dig a hole and live in it....oh, that's right, you're father's already done that for your family." Ron's fist shot out, but Harry pulled him back. "Lemme at him, I swear I could take him!" Ron growled. The noise caused Professor Lambert to look up, "That's enough, Malfoy. 5 points off Slytherin. Now, please return to your work. Another word out of you, and you're going down to the Headmaster and more points will be taken from your house," she paused, "That means you three too." she looked up at the Harry, Hermoine and Ron and a glimmer of what might have been understanding flickered across her face, then died. Hermoine turned back to her cauldron, but try as she might, she couldn't enjoy the class with Malfoy hissing sneering remarks in her ear. Finally, something inside of her burst and she spun around and smacked Malfoy across his pale, insolent face. "Honestly! Shut up!" she cried, lunging at him so wildly that Harry and Ron both grabbed her arms in surprise. "Hermoine!" Ron said, "What's bloody gotten into you?!" Professor Lambert stood quickly to break them up, but before she could even pull out her wand, Malfoy shoved his cauldron right into Hermoine. The class all cried out and leaped back to avoid the angry dark orange liquid. Hermoine and Harry weren't so lucky. "Oh!" Hermoine shrieked as the bubbling potion hit her arm, sending searing pain through it, as though it were made up of sharp, tiny teeth. Harry seemed to be having the same reaction. "Oh!" she cried again and lunged at Malfoy again, but Ron grabbed her by her dry arm, "You did that on purpose, Malfoy! You big-" Professor Lambert put a firm hand on her shoulder before she could continue, "Harry, Hermoine, you too head to Madame Pomfrey's. Such behavior will lead to reduction of points;" she paused, "5 points off of Gryffidor, 10 off of Slytherin." Malfoy suddenly looked sorry and upset, "Oh, I'm dearly, dearly sorry, Professor, it was truly an accident. I was just so dazed after she hit me that it was upset in the confusion." "That may be true, Mr. Malfoy, however I don't condone the derogatory comments about Muggle blooded people." she snapped, "I, myself am part Muggle." Malfoy appeared abashed, but when she turned, he made a nasty face at her back. Harry and Hermoine marched in pain and silence to Madame Pomfrey's office. She tried out small talk, "I don't know what came over me...it was just the taunting, I suppose..." Finally, she couldn't take it any longer, "Goodness, Harry, we have to talk about it sooner or later!" she exploded as they took a seat in the waiting room. The door to the office was open a crack and Hermoine could see a first or second year getting two green fingers fixed up. She shifted her arm, which was starting to swell and itch and turned to Harry who had suddenly become quite fascinated with the floor. "Well?" she demanded. He turned to her and gulped, "Hermoine, I-" Suddenly, the kid with the once green fingers emerged from the office. Passing them, his face suddenly lit up. "Golly, are you Harry Potter?" without waiting for a response, he gripped his swollen hand firmly and pumped it hard up and down as Harry winced in pain, "It's truly an honor! My brother's told me all about you!" Madame Pomfrey came out and saw Harry. "Oh. You again. Goodness, you are a regular," she turned to the second year, "Christopher Creevy, get to class now!" "Creevey? Another?" Harry croaked as she hustled the two in, clucking her tongue and making tsk, tsk noises. Hermoine didn't answer, she was sure Harry was avoiding her. 


	5. Default Chapter Title

AN: I was thinking (yes, I know that sounds very odd for me) the other day and I came to the rather disheartening conclusion of who will probably date/marry who. Ron and Hermoine have that whole arguing/tension that will probably "blossom into fondness" thing going on...If it does happen, I may be forced to weep. And then there's how Ginny (who I'm not especially fond of) already likes Harry...*sighs*. Of course, it will probably be Parvarti and Lavender with Dean and Seamus, so that eliminates them from Ron's list. Of course, if we added a little gay thing in....okay, nevermind! And Neville.....? Oh, also, I'm changing my name to "Supervixen" so look for this story under that name now. Thanks! ;)  
  
Hermoine sat on the cot patiently, holding her throbbing, swollen arm as Harry was looked over by a concerned Madame Pomfrey.  
"A potion of this sort is quite hard to cure. I'm going for a Professor, lets see what they can do." clucked the nurse, looking at them through suspicious eyes, almost as though they had planned causing her all this trouble.  
"You two wait here while I get them," she gave them a reprimanding look, "and you best behave."  
She swept out of the room.  
Harry regained his focus on the floor.  
"Harry, are we ever going to talk again?" Hermoine demanded, "I can't stand how you're avoiding me!"  
He looked up at her, "I know, but it's just that...well...it's weird, you know?"   
"Yea, I guess," she replied, biting her bottom lip.  
"Do you think, maybe, we should tell Ron?" he hazarded.  
They both instantly shook their heads.  
"No!"  
There was an awkward pause.  
"Maybe we'd be better off, you know, just as friends?" he asked, his voice barely audible.  
Hermoine sighed in relief.  
"I was thinking the same thing...maybe that would be best," she replied, "I like you a lot, Harry, I just..."  
He nodded, understanding. They both smiled for the first time in days at one another. She held her slightly bloated hand out.  
"Friends?" she asked.  
"Friends," he shook it gently, seeing that both their hands were nearly twice their usual size.  
Just then, Madame Pomfrey returned with Professor Snape looming over like some horrible bat. Their smiles vanished. Snape? Snape was going to treat them?  
"These are the two." Madame Pomfrey pointed at them, "I think it was a plant engorgement potion," she reported briskly.  
Snape's eyes sparkled with a dangerous glee.  
"Well, well, well...look who we have here, the famous Harry Potter and Ms. Granger."  
He bared a smile so greasy, Hermoine felt as though they had both sank into an oil slick.  
He held up Harry's arm, pressing hard. Harry closed his eyes and winced, forcing himself to stand strong to Snape's lure. He wasn't getting a cry out of him.  
Snape nodded, made some concerned noises and gave an emphatic, "Mmm...tsk, tsk..." as a grand finale. Finally, he spoke.  
"Well, I must say that this boy needs some reversal potion and should get some bed rest until I've completed it."  
Madame Pomfrey nodded happily, she loved giving children bed rest, but Harry stood quickly. That did not sound like good news at all.  
"Wait, Professor, how long will it take?" he asked anxiously.  
Snape replayed his slick smile, "Oh, about 'until the end of today."  
"But I'm the team captain (yes, I realize that in being the moron I am, I haven't said anything about that teeny little aspect yet) and I've got a Quidditch match!" he cried, realizing that was exactly what Snape was aiming to stop him from doing.  
"Now, now, Potter, I'm very busy..." he said, barely able to keep the joy out of his voice. Then he added with an air one faux innocence, "And you should lay down, one with your condition should not be up."   
"But Professor, couldn't Ms. Lambert make it? She is the Potions instructor." Hermoine piped in.  
He gave her a nasty look.  
"Such a reversal potion is at a much to..er, high level for someone of her...mediocrity" he lied. The two glared.  
He turned to exit when Hermoine spoke up again.  
"Wait, Professor, what about me?" she asked.  
He looked back or his shoulder at her.  
"Oh yes," he glanced quickly at her arm, then pulled out his wand, mumbled a few words and her arm shrank back down to size, "You may return to class, Ms. Granger, and continue to know it all." Hermoine flushed.  
"Why can't you do that to me?" demanded Harry, eyes wide with disbelief.  
"Yes, I got more of the potion on my arm then he did." Hermoine added.  
The flashing danger in Snape's eyes made them both shrink back.  
"Do not question me, Potter, or you, Granger. Any further conduct of the sort and I will regrettably be forced to take points from your house," he hissed, voice just a notch about a whisper.  
The, with a final rustle of his robes, he exited the room.  
"Well, now, you get into bed," instructed Madame Pomfrey, pointing at Harry, "And you, get back to class."   
Hermoine nodded. But as Madame Pomfrey exited to get some castor oil for Harry, she turned and kneeled down by his bed.  
"Listen, I don't know the spell Snape did, and it's probably very advanced, so I promise I'll look up the reversal potion and bring it to you before your match."  
He looked at her in disbelief, "You'd do that?"  
"Of course. I'll be here in 1/2 an hour."   
He nodded, "Thanks, and try to be careful, okay?  
She smiled and nodded.  
***  
Hermoine felt terribly guilty for skipping Hagrid's lesson in Care for Magical Creatures, but she knew that she had to do it.  
"Um, Hagrid, I think I'm going to be sick!" she called out as he walked around, helping people care for their baby Kungis. The Kungis were tiny balls of fuzz that hummed a soothing, bittersweet melody and sometimes, if you weren't cautious, would bite your fingers with their sharp fangs, injecting a mild sedative. Neville had squeezed one a little too hard and was draped awkwardly over a chair in a deep sleep.  
"Okay then, you can go down ter the nurse." Hagrid replied, appearing anxious for her health.  
"You need someone to help you?"  
Before she could answer, he called over Ron. Her heart leapt for joy, she hadn't had time to explain the whole predicament to him, by the time she'd gotten to class, it had started, but now she'd have his aid.  
"Okay..." she said, carefully keeping her ill face.  
As they exited, she noticed with a touch of nervousness that Malfoy was staring at them with a suspicious look on his pale face.  


***  


Hermoine quickly explained the situation to Ron who gasped in all the right spots and finally cried,  
"That dirty-" the let out a string of coarse curses.  
"Shh!" Hermoine quickly pulled him into the Potions dungeon. Now, help me. She pulled out a thick, promising looking book from a shelf.  
"Plant engorgement potions...here it is!" she said, after quickly scanning through the pages.  
"Okay, I need lacewings, caterpillar heads-ew!-beetle eyes, shaved toenails of a griffin-interesting-spider legs (here Ron winced), dragon scales, a leaf of any plant other than wolfsbane and finally, unicorn hair."  
He quickly tossed down the needed materials on the counter in front of her.  
"That it" he asked.  
"Should be."she said, hastily taking a spare cauldron (usually used for when Neville melted his or someone else's) out of a cabinet and carefully following the instructions and mixing together the potion slowly.  
"Okay, lastly, what kind of plant is this?" she held it up.  
"Um, I got it off that Ciccus plant by the window."  
"Good." She tossed the leaves in, checked the potion for consistency and color then nodded. Then suddenly, she took Ron's finger and dipped it into a cauldron sitting in the sink, still half full of the orange plant engorgement potion.  
"ARGH!" he yanked his hand away and gaped at her as his finger began to swell.  
"What the hell did you do that for?!" he demanded.  
"Keep it down and give me your hand." She hissed, taking it and pouring some of the remedy she'd just made onto the swollen areas. They made a slight sighing noise and returned to normal size.  
"There. It works," she said with verve.  
"You could've asked me." he grumbled, not sharing her cheer.  
She ladled most of the potion into a small glass bottle, corked it and cleaned up the area.  
"Come on, we've only got 10 minutes." she said, hurrying down the hall. He followed close behind.  
"Then pray Madame Pomfrey isn't there. She'll interrogate us for 10 minutes." he said.  
It seemed as though they hadn't prayed quite hard enough because as they crept into the hospital wing, the nurse stepped out, instantly drawn to the presence of a well student.  
Hermoine quickly tucked the potion into her robes.  
"What are you two doing here?" she demanded.  
"Errrrr....we came to visit Harry." Ron ventured.  
"In the middle of class?" she made a face as though the lame response was enough to make her sick.  
"Well,...Hagrid wanted us to say hello for him." Hermoine said, crossing her fingers behind her back.  
"Very well. 5 minutes." She snapped and let them into Harry's curtained off section.  
He sat upright quickly. As soon as Madame Pomfrey was out of earshot, he turned to them.  
"Do you have it? We've only got 2 minutes left! The team was in here just a while ago, they're going crazy!"  
"We have it!" Hermoine swiftly pulled out the potion and swabbed it onto his arm gently, using a the corner of a pillow.  
"Thanks." He said, watching, fascinated as the swelling went down.  
"Come on, let's get ready!" urged Ron, practically shoving him out of bed and up the stairs toward the Gryffidor tower.  
As they turned the corner, for the second time, they nearly ran into...  
"Professor Snape!" they all squeaked.  
"Potter! What on earth are you doing out of bed?!" he demanded, "I told you, I didn't have enough time to complete your potion..." he quickly hid a salami sub and rubberband ball behind him.  
"Well, er, Professor, it seems that my arm's all well..." Harry quickly flashed his arm out, "So we'll be going er....now!" he and Ron dashed away, a babbling Hermoine in tow, leaving Snape speechless.  
By the time Ron and Hermoine and located and clambered into half decent seats at the Quidditch match, both teams were lined up on the field. The Hufflepuff's canary yellow robes were almost glinting from the sun rays on the unusually warm October afternoon.  
"Come on Gryffidor!" hollered Ron, getting up and stamping his feet on the bleachers. Seamus and Dean were making cat calls in front of them.  
"Ron! Stop, Professor Snape might see us!" hissed Hermoine, trying to duck low.  
Ron immediately hunched his shoulders and pulled his robes high, making them look even shorter than they were in the first place.  
Hermoine sighed and rolled her eyes, "Honestly, Ron, your jokes aren't helping," she said.  
"I'm not joking! Last time I got detention from that bloody *******, I had to scrub the hospital bedpans without magic!" he exclaimed.  
Hermoine was on the verge of a "well, it served you right" but bit it back, then forgot all about it as Gryffidor made a goal.  
She and Ron stood with the rest to holler and cheer at the top of their lungs.  
Harry made a couple quick loops and turns to get rid of some anxiety, then continued on his quest for the gold Snitch and called out shouts of encouragement to his team.  
"That Firebolt's sure looking good...they say even compared to the new Nimbus 2002, it's still one of the top..." Ron commented enviously, "Blimey, what I wouldn't do to own one of those..."  
"And there's Harry Potter, still riding atop his sleek and magnificent Firebolt, several years, he's had that piece of beauty now, eh Harry?" Lee Jordan called out in the announcer's booth as Professor McGonagall yelled at him to shut up and focus on the game.  
Harry waved, and though he was too far away to see clearly, Hermoine was sure he grinned.  
Suddenly, at the far corner of the field, there was the Snitch, shining bright in the sun.  
Harry saw it and raced toward it instantly.  
Unfortunately, the new Hufflepuff seeker was about as small and nearly as fast as   
Harry. He had nearly caught up to him by the time they reached the center on the field.  
Both team's houses were on their feet screaming for their seeker.  
"Come on Harry, you can make it, you're faster than he is!" hollered Ron boisterously.  
"Come on Harry..." breathed Hermoine.  
"He's slower than ever! I could beat him easily." Drawled the familiar voice of Draco Malfoy behind them.  
"You shut up!" hollered Ron as Harry and the other seeker were in a duel of complicated moves and turns as the Snitch nimbly darted away.  
"Couldn't catch it...not even in his mouth this time," Malfoy gloated.  
Ron leapt at him, but was neatly caught and twisted rather like a pretzel by Crabbe and Goyle who seemed to have somehow grown even larger over break.  
"Ron!" cried Hermoine, just noticing his jammed under their seats long after his attackers had left the scene, "What on earth are you doing down there? And have you been fighting?"  
Ron glared at her.  
Suddenly, Lee Jordan was hopping up and down with excitement.  
"Harry Potter and Bert Bennett's are neck to neck and Harry leans in...and yes! He has the Snitch! Gryffidor wins the match!"  
The cheer from the crowd was deafening, but even through the roar, Hermoine could hear her voice, louder than anyone else's and she smiled.  
***  
Everyone was looking quite full (and tired) after the feast in the great hall.  
Night had fallen and the enchanted ceiling was a beautiful, clear and serene velvet blue splashed with diamond-like stars.  
Hermoine leaned back in her seat and smiled as she surveyed the table.  
She felt, really, as though these people were her family.  
Dumbledore rose, shaking everyone from their stupor, "And finally," he said, holding a jewel encrusted goblet up in one hand, "One last announcement...For those of you in your third year or older, we have a special treat...you have all been invited to the first ever annual Hogsmeade ball!"  
There was a murmur that rippled through the crowd instantly. Some of the talk was excited, some worried.  
Hermoine herself felt the latter. A ball? It sounded formal.  
"Now, I don't want you to worry or fret and what not...you need no escorts, they simple wish to have some young people from our school there..." he said comfortingly, "That is all. Good night and since we have no bed bugs here, I assure you that they will not bite!"  
There was gentle laughter this time, like a bubbling stream.  
As Hermoine and the other Gryffidor girls settled into bed, the quiet talk turned to the ball.  
"Are you guys going with anyone?" Lavender asked, burrowing beneath her sheets and patting her hair gently, which was up in golden (and magical-Hermoine suspected) curlers.  
Parvati shrugged, a smile on her face, "I don't know...both Dean and Seamus asked me, but I'm not sure what to do..."  
Hermoine looked up from the fat book covering her lap, "Why don't you go by yourself, then save them both a dance?" she suggested.  
Parvati's face lit up, "Good idea. I think that's what I'll do...what about you, Hermoine, are you going with anyone? I think Harry Potter likes you and this year, he's got permission to visit Hogsmeade..." she smiled.  
"No. No, he doesn't, I mean, like me..." Hermoine said a little too quickly and loudly, "I mean, uh, I don't think so."  
Lavender suddenly gushed out, "Ron Weasley asked me!"   
Hermoine's head snapped back, "Ron?" she laughed, "Really?"  
"Yea! Right after dinner!" Lavender squealed.  
"That's great." Hermoine said enthusiastically.  
"You're going, right Hermoine?" asked Parvarti.  
"Er...well, um, I don't have anything to wear..." Hermoine finally volunteered meekly.  
"Oh come on, Hermoine, think it over, okay?" Parvati asked.  
She nodded.  
The lights clicked off and they all drifted to sleep. Hermoine was last to doze off.  


***  


The next day rushed by quickly. Hermoine tried to study in the common room, but talk of the dance was there. She moved to the library, but discovered peeking at love-potion spell books in every corner. Finally, she agreed to play Ron in wizard chess, but after being beat 6 consecutive times stopped.  
Harry was at Quidditch practice so she couldn't talk to him either.  
As the evening set, the houses were alive with talk and preparation.   
Hermoine reluctantly withdrew to her bedroom. The round room was filled with eager, nervous girls all putting on dresses and doing hair, some with wands. She dumped her books on her bed and was about to follow them when Parvati called her over.  
"Yes,?" she asked.  
"I thought you told me you didn't have anything to wear!" Parvati accused.  
"I don't." She replied.  
"Then what's that?" Parvati demanded pointing a wardrobe. Hanging on the door was the most beautiful dress Hermoine had ever seen. It looked as though taken from a fairy tale: Long, crimson and silk with belled sleeves that were trimmed with gold ribbon like the square neck and sweeping bottom. The bodice was also tied with gold. There was a tiny, clear bag on the hanger as well, containing ruby and gold earrings and a necklace.  
"It's not mine," Hermoine said with a reluctant laugh, "remember, I come from a Muggle family?"  
"But it's not anyone else's either." Parvati said, confused, "I asked everyone. Plus, in case you didn't notice, every one besides you is dressed up already."  
Hermoine stared at the dress a second longer, then shrugged, "It's beautiful, but again, it's not mine."  
"A pity. We're all heading to use the powder room, there's a line outside and I don't want to be last, you take care, okay?"  
Hermoine smiled and nodded, "I'm studying. That's not very dangerous."  
Parvati nodded and left.  
"Well, it's just me and you, dress," Hermoine said. There was an irritated meow from her cat, "And you, too, Crookshanks." she smiled, looking at the dress again.  
"I wonder..." she walked over and discovered a gold tag that had been hidden inside the dress.  
"Hermoine~ See you at the ball, Ron asked Lavender to help me pick out the dress last time we were at Hogsmeade, hope you like it ~Harry." she read, eyes glowing. Quickly, she slipped into the dress and standing in front of the mirror, she saw it fit perfectly. She put on the jewelry and smiled, waving her wand to pull her hair up in a French twist.  
She'd always described her hair as mousy brown, but dressed up like that, she thought of it as chestnut.  


***  


  
  



	6. Default Chapter Title

A/N: Hmmm...for once, I have nothing to say. Ah yes, well, happy belated holidays and I hope you all have a wonderful new century and millennium (even if it doesn't really start 'til 2001) and don't run into any crazy bomb toting terrorists raving about the apocalypse! =)  
  
Hermione stared into space as the other girls in the same carriage with her chattered away excitedly. And though she was crammed in between a bubbling Ginny Weasley and an equally loud third year, she barely heard a word they said.  
Her mind was entirely on Harry Potter. Of course, she was flattered he'd asked her, she felt confused. Hadn't they agreed to just be friends? Were they still just friends?  
She sighed, nervously brushing at a loose curl that fell over an eye and brushed imaginary lint off of her dress.  
"...I hope Harry Potter saves a dance for me!" Ginny Weasley squealed. Then her eyes darted over Hermione and back to her gloved hands. She was blushing almost as red as Hermione's gown. Ginny herself looked rather like a French poodle in a frilly white and pink dress that was almost as curly as her crimped hair.  
Hermione smiled a little at that. So, there had been rumors about Harry and her. She was not at all displeased to hear this.  
Quite suddenly, the carriage jerked to a halt, causing shouts of protest and surprise from everyone. The candles in the carriage flickered, then went out.   
There were squeals from almost everyone. Hermoine quickly stood, then with her wand, re-lit the candles, trying to calm everyone down.  
Parvati looked up at her, eyes betraying her fear, "You don't think it has anything to do with..." she left the question inconcluded.  
"Voldermort?" Hermoine asked boldly. The girls flinched at the name, "I sure hope not."  
But inside, she felt herself shudder...was Harry okay? And Ron?  
She shook her head. They could take care of themselves, she told herself. At the moment, she had to see if she was going to be okay.  
Cautiously, she opened the door of the carriage, looking out into the dark night. With a quick muttering, her wand lit up. The teachers were hurriedly ushering children into their carts and there was much excited commotion. She also noticed an awful lot of children were looking up. She followed their gaze and gasped, almost falling backwards.   
Covering the dark, starry sky, there was a dark gray cloud, almost like smoke. And it had a face.  
And it was most certainly the worst face Hermione had ever seen. It was hideous, distorted with rage, slits of eyes the color of molten lava and like a snake's, and a black hole of a mouth opened wide enough to swallow them all...  
She turned away, panicked, then saw Draco Malfoy cowering beneath their carriage, whimpering.  
"What is it?!" she snapped, "You have to get to your carriage! There's no time to be a coward!"  
To her surprise, he didn't yell back, just rocked back and forth on his heels, still blubbering uncontrollably, his skinny body shaking.  
Suddenly, he spoke. But it was barely audible, more a whisper, "He's calling me...calling me, just like dad said, he wants me to come....don't let him take me...please...PLEASE!" suddenly, his voice rose and he whirled to face her, face red and eyes bloodshot.  
He gave a last anguished cry, then faster than Hermione imagined possible, spun around and fell onto the road, quivering. Then, before her shocked eyes, he gave a last shuddering sigh, then finally lay quite still, looking asleep...or dead.  
She pulled back, horrified. Finding her voice, she cried out, "Professor! Hagrid! Please, someone!"  
Hagrid came puffing up, his great face worried and fearful.  
"You okay, there, Hermoine?" he asked, heaving Malfoy over a colossal shoulder with a pant.  
"Yes...why aren't we moving?" she demanded, pointing up at the face in the sky.  
Hagrid shuddered, "Dumbledore says it's just a warning...from You-Know-Who..." he shivered again, "Damned scary one. We gotta get back to Hogwarts, but the Slytherins everywhere are dropping into fits and runnin' off in ter the night...they keep yowling about getting signals and such. All pretty darn spooky, if yer ta ask me!   
"Now, you get back into the carriage and be good, we don't need anymore trouble..." he took a deep breath, "Looks as though there may be some fightin' later...you mind yerself, ya hear? Be good!" he spoke the last part very viciously.   
She nodded, but as his great from faded from sight, Malfoy still limply draped over a shoulder, she ducked into the carriage, and looked Parvati straight in the eyes.  
"Look, Parvati...there's danger. Real danger. I want you to stay here and keep the girls inside, keep them calm..."  
"Where in magic's name are you going?" demanded Parvati.  
"I...I got to go find...." she trailed off.  
"Harry?" her friend completed.  
Hermoine nodded. Hermione  
"Oh Hermoine, don't get yourself killed for him!" she wailed, "You have to stay! Honestly, Hermoine! You can't-"  
"I'll come back, I just have to make sure Harry-and Ron-don't go off somewhere. I need to, okay?"  
Parvati glared but slumped back and sighed, "You be careful, Hermoine."  
"I will. I just have to make sure Harry and Ron will too."  
With that, she leaped from the carriage and sneaked past panicked teachers and students alike.   
She looked around, feeling despair. Out of all these stopped, scattered carriages, how would she find the one Harry and Ron were in...if they were in it at all?  
Suddenly, the sight of a fellow 5th year, a Gryffindor boy, peeking out the window of a carriage caught her eye.  
That might just be their carriage, and in any case, it was the best lead that she had.  
She picked up her skirt and hurried over. As she hopped onto the carriage foot step, she bumped into...  
Solid air.  
Solid air?  
"Oh you!" she said angrily, then reached a hand into the open and pulled the invisibility cloak off both Ron and Harry who stared at her.  
"Hermione!" Harry hissed, "What's wrong with you?!"  
"What's wrong with me?!" she cried, "What's the matter with you, Harry Potter? And you too, Ron? You two could get killed sneaking off like that! How could you not even think about all the people who care about you? How could you? And where on earth did that invisibility cloak of yours come from, anyway? You didn't bring it, did you?"  
"Which question should we answer first?" Ron said under his breath.  
Hermoine whirled on him, "You shut up, Ron, there's real danger here!"  
"We know, Hermione," Harry said quietly to her, but even as he spoke, those amazing emerald eyes of his stayed glued to the sky, his fists clenched in a silent rage, "but that...that...thing killed my parents and a whole bunch of other innocent and brave witches and witches. Hell, he's even killed innocent muggles and children. He doesn't deserve to be left alone...to live," he looked at her for a brief second, then back up at the sky,   
"As for this cloak," here he ran an affectionate hand over the liquid like material, "someone had pinned it to my bed with a note saying that I may need it. The handwriting looked like-"  
"Dumbledore's." she interjected, "Look Harry, I know how much you look up Headmaster Dumbledore, but if its going to get you killed I won't let you do it."  
"Hermione, you don't know what it's like to live with this..burden. And the pain of knowing I've met the beast, but it still lives! So I'm going, even if it does kill me!" he insisted.  
"And I'm with him." Ron added firmly.  
Her mouth turned into a mere straight line and she looked mad enough to explode, but all she said was, "Fine, but if you're going to be killed, you're not doing it without me."  
His face was blank, but suddenly it lit up with what she said.  
"Y-you will?"  
"Of course," she retorted, "is there room in that cloak?"  
They shuffled together, then making sure no one was watching, they threw it over themselves and slinked off behind some bushes, watching and waiting.   
Already, the rest of the students had been herded into carriages and quieted.  
Dumbledore stood with some of the other teachers in a circle, talking in hushed, fast voices.  
"You're certain that the face in the sky is not...him?" Professor McGonagall asked, shuddering.  
"Positive, Minerva." Dumbledore replied evenly, his brow dipped in frustration at that face, "But we can't keep our guard down. First, we need to get the children back to Hogwarts..."  
"And then?" asked the oily voice of Snape.  
"Then, there may be a battle for us to fight," Dumbledore sighed heavily, "I believe that he may be in the Hogsmeade Town Building, where the ball was to be. There will be much danger, we must be very, very careful."  
And if Hermione didn't know any better, she'd say that he'd looked right at them when he spoke those last words.  
"C'mon, let's go..." Ron hissed, breaking into her thoughts.  
_Yes, let's_ she thought with a sigh.  
  
*A note to "Person" and All* Okay, ignore the other one. And in the review, I meant to write "I did not imply Ginny was a _3rd_ year," NOT a _4th_ year. I realize she _is_ a 4th year. Please forgive me, I have the flu. *Sighs and downs another dose of cough syrup* *Bleeeeeeaaaaaaaccccchhhhhh* =P  
  



	7. Default Chapter Title

A/N: I was reading other fanfics, and I noticed that other people put their author notes @ the bottom of their stories. This left me thinking: Am I that self centered? Oh well, anyhow. You know what I love most about this ward in fanfiction.net? (I know you don't care, but humor me) The fact that there's no smut or NC-17 rated stuff. I mean, sure we have some language, but it's nothing outside of the stuff that you hear on the school bus. And if your home-schooled...I haven't a comparison for you. *Sighs* Okay, now that I've said that, it's only a matter of time before the slime starts pouring in...well, anyhow, there's usually only a few people who read this anyway. Whoa, I talk way to much. Sorry. Read on...  
  
Hermione was not very pleased under Harry's invisibility cloak.   
Not only were they about to face Voldermort, a being so terrible few dared to say his name, but it seemed they'd all grown quite a bit since the last time they'd crowded under the liquidly cloth and it was a tight squeeze.   
Though it was hard to see, she was pretty sure that Ron was in front of her and she had her lightly freckled nose smushed into one of his bony shoulderblades.  
"Harry, can you see where we're going?" Ron hissed, as they narrowly missed hitting yet another tree.  
"Well, it's hard when my glasses have been split in two by your elbow," Harry snapped back.  
"Oh honestly!" Hermione sighed, "Is there anyone around, Harry?"   
"No one that I can see, then I can't see much," he replied.  
"Fine, then let's just take this stupid cloak off and walk," she snapped.  
"Should we risk it?" Ron asked, stopping short and causing her to bump into him and fall over. Her leg caught Ron's shin and he went down, tangling Harry in the cloak. In a jumble of cloth, limbs and grumbled curses, they fell to the cold ground.  
Hermione looked around her. They faces were all exposed, the invisibility cloak draped over Harry's shoulders so that he looked like some eerily floating head.  
"I guess we'll just have to risk it," she replied, struggling to her feet and brushing dirt off of her dress and attempting to regain her dignity.  
Harry sheepishly pulled the cloak off his shoulders, folded it up and tucked it inside the trunk of a tree.  
"Remember that the cloak is here....you know, just in case I don't, you know, make it back," he said bravely.  
"Harry, don't talk like that!" Hermione reprimanded sharply.  
"Yea, if you die, we're dying with you!" Ron exclaimed brightly.  
Hermione glared at him, "That wasn't exactly what I had in mind, Ron."  
The three shivered in the cool night air, thoughts of the dark lord himself filling their heads.  
"Well, let's go," Harry spoke, breaking through their thoughts.  
The group walked up the marble stairs of the Hogsmeade Town Hall steps.  
"So, Hermione, what's the history of this place?" Ron asked.  
"Hogsmeade Town Hall was built shortly after the founding of the town. Of course, the initial structure was not nearly as elegant or extravagant as this building, however, it even at that time was the largest, most fanciful place in the entire village. It is and has been used for citizen meetings, board meetings, village announcements and social gatherings such as balls, dueling matches and other functions," she replied immediately.  
"I knew I shouldn't have asked," Ron muttered.  
"Oh shut up," Hermione prissed good naturedly.  
They reached the top of the stairs and looked down upon the silent village of Hogsmeade.  
"They all evacuated," Harry said softly, looking at Hermione, "Ron and I saw them run away. Some of them...had those weird seizures like the Slytherins did. I heard someone say it had to do with the strong bonds between Voldermort and his house," he added.  
"Poor people," Hermione whispered.  
"Poor people?!" Ron demanded, "How about poor us?"  
They turned to face the tall, beautiful Town Hall. Against the night sky, it was foreboding, almost evil looking. The face in the sky had faded and had been reduced to faint pink wisps of smoke and mist.  
"Think he's in there?" Harry asked, his voice sounding impossibly loud in the cool air.  
"We'll have to find out." Came Ron's reply.  
Wordlessly, they took out their wands and entered the building, not sure if they would ever come out.


End file.
